Our First Place

We put the key in the door of our first home and crossed the threshold hand in hand. We had just come from the closing and the house was officially ours, ALL 2,200 square feet of mid-century Ranch amortized at 6.34% for the next 30 years of it. For a couple of dykes, buying a house together is the closest sort of commitment you can get to getting married. Sabrina was feeling sentimental, going through each room and dreaming out loud of what our lives were going to be like; the Virgo in me was feeling overwhelmed and anxious at the amount of unpacking we had to do just to get to our toothbrushes, towels, and dishes.

I have to confess, when I was watching her unpack, with her red and white scarf tied around her head and her favorite t-shirt with a big ole rainbow on it, I had to marvel at her beauty, both inside and out. She was so calm, so grounding for me. She’d made coming out to my family not easy, but tolerable. She made all the gross and offensive comments from men who thought they could “change me with their super dicks” bearable. She just fits me perfectly in every way. We’ve been together for four years. That’s equivalent to 16 heterosexual years for a lesbian couple and we’ve been together longer than all of our gay friends, both male and female, have ever been in a relationship combined.

I’d just about finished getting the bed frame up when I heard our doorbell ring for the first time. I ran downstairs to see who it could be and I saw Sabrina paying a delivery guy for some takeout food. She’d set up a makeshift table in the living room by taking one of our moving boxes and putting a sheet over it and she decorated it with flowers from our garden in a jar from the garage and some candles she got from who knows where. “Come and get it,” she said, as we sat down on the floor to dine on some Chinese food on the first night of the rest of our lives together.

I was overwhelmed with the feelings of love I had for this woman. “You know, I adore you, right?”

She looked at me and half-laughed. “Of course I do. And I love you too.”

“No,” I said, “I adore you. You mean the world to me. I don’t even want to think what my life would be like without you. I can’t even imagine who I would be without you.” I started to get really emotional and the words got choked up in my throat. She crawled over to my side and I put my head on her shoulder. She kissed the top of my forehead and I reached up to kiss her. Her tongue found mine and we shared an intimate kiss that grew more passionate with each passing tick of the clock. I lay back on the living room floor and she climbed on top of me, pressing her body into mine.

“Mmmm, we don’t have any curtains up yet . . . . we should . .. Stop,” I managed to say.
True to her rebellious nature, she said, “I don’t give a fuck. This is OUR house,” with heavy emphasis on the word our, and if I want to make love to my wife, and people want to watch, then so fucking be it.” With that, she slid her hand between my legs and pressed her palm against my mound. My body responded before my common sense could and I was pulling her t-shirt over her head while she was freeing me from the restrictions of my clothing.

We made love, on the floor, the very first night in our brand new home. Reclining back on an overstuffed pillow, I spread my legs and she made a dessert out of my breasts, licking and sucking my hardened nipples until I was begging her to go down on me. She kissed her way down my stomach and spread my legs. Taking her fingers, she spread the lips of my pussy and softly, gently, licked my clit until I was squirming and moaning and holding her mouth to my wet slit, wrapping my legs around her head and demanding that she let me cum in her mouth. She worked her tongue up inside me and her fingers found my asshole. I was cursing and screaming and telling her how good she made me feel and thankful we weren’t in our old, tiny one bedroom apartment with thin walls.

I turned over and got up on my knees and she alternated between driving her tongue in my pussy and my ass, causing me to reach back and spread my asscheeks wider so she could do her magic. She licked me from my clit to my spine and back again and I was grinding my pussy all over her face. She playfully slapped my ass and warned me that if I didn’t hold still that she was going to stop. Like hell she was going to stop. She wanted my cum and she wasn’t going to stop until I was flowing all over her.

She did a Bruce Lee sort of move and flipped around until her pussy was against mine. I could feel the heat of her warm cunt and the wetness of her slippery folds. She scissored her legs with mine and started bumping and grinding away, clit to clit. It was like our pussies were French kissing. I could feel the first signs of my orgasm approaching and I begged her to stop. I wanted to make love to her, to eat her, to enjoy every inch of her body first. She didn’t listen and she kept taunting me, teasing me, telling me to cum. “Give me that cum baby. Bathe me in your sweet honey. That’s it, squirt all over Mami. Oh yeah, baby, fuck me with that hard clit of yours. “

That sent me over the edge and I exploded. We curled up in each other’s arms and lay there for a while, just basking in the glow. I stroked her hair and intertwined my brown fingers with hers. She said, “We’ve christened one room, just think, we have six more to go.”

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK